


A Friend In Need - A Dishonored DiD Tale

by Kiwikink



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Bondage, Damsels in Distress, Dishonored 2, F/F, Kidnapping, Post-Dishonored 2 (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26299918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiwikink/pseuds/Kiwikink
Summary: Billie Lurk must rescue an old friend whose latest con has left her a little tied up...
Relationships: Billie Lurk | Meagan Foster/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	A Friend In Need - A Dishonored DiD Tale

My name is Billie Lurk, and I am apparently a good friend to have.

I would never describe myself as such, to be honest. My past is, as they say, chequered. But in a life that has included careers as a thief, a smuggler, a sailor and - most regrettably – an assassin, I have managed to befriend people on all sides of the law, and I have never been one to shirk off a call for aid, especially when such a cry required the particular set of skills I possessed. And that was why my help was asked for to save the hide of Tarabai Kaur.

Tarabai and I had know each other ever since I first came to the isle of Serkonos, having fled Dunwall after some dark business had left me in need of redemption. Tara was a cheat and a con artist, always with a scheme in play, even though that elusive big score never materialized. She had helped me establish a new identity as Captain Meagan Foster, captain of the steamboat The Dreadful Wale, and normally I would feel I owed her if not for the fact that she had cheated as many times as she had aided me. It had been years since I had last heard from her, as my patience for her schemes had reached its limit, but when a mutual acquaintance had arrived at the Wale to let me know Tara was in trouble, I found myself unable to say no. 

It seemed Tarabai had been running a new con, having acquired the uniform of a Sister of the Oracular Order, and had been scamming donations from the devout believers of the Silver Scriptures in port district of Northern Campo Seta. But her machinations had attracted the attention of the Eyeless, an occult gang who worshipped the Void and hated the Oracular Order, and they had promptly kidnapped Tara after she had foolishly wandered into their territory. I have had run ins with the Eyeless before, and knew how nasty they could be, so there was no way I could leave Tara in their clutches.

Once night fell, I set off to Northern Campo Seta, taking my motorized skiff around the coast and down a disused canal to avoid attracting any undue attention from the Royal Serkonos Guards that patrolled the streets, nor any Eyeless lookouts that might be lurking about. It would not do for me to attract attention, for you see, I do not look normal, not any more. Thanks to the meddling of a certain black eyed god, I had been marked by the Void; my right arm had been transformed into a skeletal appendage made of dark shards supernatural stone, while my right eye was made of a glassy red fragment. As freakish as they appeared, they were both as fully functional as a real arm or eye, and they also granted me supernatural abilities; abilities that would come in handy for tonight's mission.

In addition to my unnatural appendages, I was dressed for action in a high collared red leather jacket, brown trousers and sturdy black boots. Sheathed at my left hip was my trusty blade from the bad old days, while mounted on the underside of my left glove was a voltaic gun. A sleek weapon designed by the famous inventor Anton Sokolov, the voltaic gun could shoot small electrified flechettes that would stun a target for hours. The final additions my arsenal were three hook mines I had strapped to my belt, small metal gadgets that could shoot a thin but strong wire to snare a person when they wandered into range. The mine would then stun its victim with a small electrical discharge, similar to my voltaic darts, leaving them hanging and unconscious. All of these weapons and abilities would aid me greatly tonight, and if they were not enough, I could always rely on my own fighting prowess.

I moved down the empty streets, sticking to the shadows and back alleys as I headed towards the Banshee's Wail, an old abandoned pub that the Eyeless had set up as their current hideout. The front doors and windows were boarded up and covered in graffiti, with the Eyeless using a guarded back entrance as their means of ingress, with the old wooden door having been replaced by a thick iron one. Even if I had favoured a more direct assault, there would be no way of getting through that way. But I always preferred the shadowy approach, had honed my skills in that direction, so I determined a better way to get inside. 

Taking my spyglass from my belt, I surveyed the building before me. The Banshee was two storeys high, and despite no lights burning in the windows, I could see signs of movement within. I also spied a woman sitting on the edge of the roof, no doubt keeping an eye on the street below. I decided to make her my first target, as I doubt they expected infiltration from up there. After all, the roof would be near impossible to reach without obvious and loud climbing equipment. Well, near impossible for a normal person. 

But not for me. 

I waited until the rooftop woman shifted her position, watching her head to survey the western side of the building. I naturally approached from the east, staying cloaked in shadows, then judged my ascent. Half way up the side of the building was a series of thick pipes, connected to a ventilation system that would keep the pub cool during the sticky Serkonos summers. There was no trees or lampposts or any other easily climbable structures on this side of the building that would make these pipes easy to reach, but I had no intention of making my ascent in a physical manner.

From the shadows, I concentrated on pipe, and reached out through the Void towards it. An apparition of shimmering violet energy appeared upon the pipe, an apparition in my own image, visible only to me. I focused in on the image and, with a burst of air, felt myself displace from my current position to rematerialize a moment later in place of the apparition on top of the pipe. I repeated this process again, summoning another apparition on the edge of the roof and displacing myself to it once again. Once there, I instantly dropped into a crouch and hid behind a brick chimney, watching for the lookout I spotted earlier. 

The lookout was still on the opposite side of the roof, leaning over the edge and whistling an off-tune nursery rhyme. She was a scrawny woman with pale, almost pure white skin, dressed in stained rags that barely qualified as shirt and trousers. A rusty machete hung at her hip, her only visible weapon, and her demeanour did not give off the impression of someone expecting trouble. There was no obvious stairs that provided access to the Banshee, but there was a large skylight, and a rope secured to a broken window pane showed how the lookout had gotten up to her spot. That would be my way in, but first I'd need to take down the lookout. Moving from cover, I made my move.

It was almost insultingly easy to come up behind her, with her only realising I was there when my arm wrapped around her throat and cut off her air supply. The pale woman gasped and struggled in my grip, her hands clawing at my arms, but soon the fight left her limbs as she slid into unconsciousness. I held my grip a little longer, enough to ensure she was truly under but not long enough to do permanent damage, then gently lowered her to the ground. 

Finding a pile of disused rags, I quickly ripped them into long strips and used them as makeshift restraints for the pale woman. I pulled her skinny arms behind her back and bound them tightly at the wrist, then did the same for her ankles, before stuffing a large wad into her mouth. This would keep her out of trouble if she woke up before I was finished, though I planned to be long gone by that point. Stuffing the rest of the strips into my pocket, I tossed away the woman's machete before I headed over the skylight and peered inside the building. 

Below was what I suspected as a recreation room, judging from the card tables scattered about, but I could see nobody immediately in view. Taking the chance, I quietly dropped down into the room, and took in the ingress and egress points for the room. There were three doors, two on either side that I suspected led down further into the pub, and another door marked “Toilet.” I heard a flushing sound come from the behind that door, which mean I would soon have company.

Deciding not to risk trying to ambush whoever was about to leave the toilet, I instead took one of my hook mines and threw it at the ceiling just outside the bathroom door. I then moved to the far door leading out of the room and spied through the keyhole to see if I could spot any more Eyeless members who could spoil my plans. As I did so, the toilet door opened, and a dark haired woman dressed in a floral waistcoat and striped trousers emerged, her right hand stifling a yawn as stepped out into the room. I smirked as the hook mine went off, snaring the woman by the hand and whipping up to the ceiling as an electrical pulse coursed through her body and rendered her into unconsciousness. 

Leaving her hanging there, I then moved over the last door and peered through the keyhole. This door seemed to lead into some sort of brewery or laboratory, judging from the table with apparatuses and chemicals sitting upon it. There was a woman pacing inside, clad in a worn dress jacket and her red hair tied up in a bun, muttering as she went over some notes. I could also notice some movement just at the periphery of my vision, along with some muffled grunts. It sounded like the woman had a prisoner in there with her. Perhaps my goal of rescuing Tarabai would be achieved quicker than I expected. 

But before I could make my move, the door behind me opened, and a woman carrying a tray of food gave a startled cry. Dropping the food, she went for the machete at her side, her lips curled up in a sneer. I wasted no time, stretching out my arm towards her and firing my voltaic gun, the small flechette hitting her square in the chest. She convulsed for a moment as electricity surged through her body, the fell face first to the floor.

“What was that?” came a voice from within the laboratory. The door swung open, and the red-haired woman burst out, a pistol in her hand. Before she could react, I summoned a visage behind her and displaced myself to it, putting me in the perfect spot to grab her from behind and quickly choke her out. She soon succumbed to my grip, going limp in my arms, and I gently lowered her to the ground before tossing away her pistol. Taking out the rags from my pocket, I quickly set about binding and gagging both women, dragging them over to the toilet and stashing them inside. To complete the set, I then pulled down the woman suspended from the ceiling, gagged her mouth and bound her wrists, and threw her onto the pile in the bathroom before locking the door.

With the women taken care of, I headed into the laboratory, but was disappointed to find that it was not Tarabai held inside. Instead it was a lean, tattooed covered woman with stringy blonde hair dressed in a leather waistcoat and matching pants. She was currently bound to a straight-backed wooden chair with strong rope, a knotted scarf bound tightly between her thin lips. I smirked at her, as I knew very well who she was. 

“Well, well,” I said as I pulled the gag from her mouth. “Mindy Blanchard. What brings you to this fine establishment?”

“Meagan Foster, right?” Mindy replied, eyeing me cautiously. She was the second in command of the Howlers, a gang that mostly operated out of the so-called Dust District. I knew her mostly by reputation, and I suspect she the same of me, but I had to admit some amusement at her showing up here as a captive. “You going to untie me?”

“Answers first,” I said, leaning back against a table as I failed to hide my amusement. 

“Look, the Eyeless having been making a nuisance of themselves of late,” Mindy said, “muscling in on Howler territory. I decided to come do some reconnaissance, figure what they were up to, and ended up with a bump on my head and waking up tied to a chair. The redheaded bitch was planning to test some new brews they've been concocting, but luckily you put an end to that idea.”

“Have you seen any other prisoners? Know where they might be kept?”

“I heard them talking about some nun they snatched,” Mindy said, looking thoughtful. “Being kept in the basement by there leader, a fallen aristocrat by the name of Gretchen Finch. But if you are planning to rescue the nun, forget it. Apparently the Eyeless have somehow got there hands on Clockwork Soldier, and are using it to guard her.”

“Wonderful,” I sighed. I had never seen a working Clockwork Soldier, but I had heard of them. Dangerous mechanical behemoths with arms made of swords, with literal eyes in the back of their heads. This would make my task all the more difficult. 

“So, are you going to untie me?” Mindy asked, a sarcastic tone in her voice.

“Eventually,” I replied, and stuffed the gag back into her mouth. “Sit tight and I'll let you out once my business is done. Until then, I can't risk you getting spotted.”

Mindy glared at me, mumbling insults through her gag.

I ignored her, instead turning my attention to the various chemicals stored within the laboratory. Most of if had names that were beyond my comprehension, but I soon focused on one clear liquid I did know, and one I could use to my advantage: Ether. Smirking, I took the bottle and left the laboratory, waving a goodbye to Mindy as I went. From the muffled grunts that followed, I don't think she appreciated my gesture.

I closed the laboratory door behind me and went to the door on the opposite side of the recreation room, leaning around the corner to see what I could see. There was a set of stairs leading down, to what I suspected was the bar proper. But to be sure, I decided to use one of my other occult powers to be sure. 

Focusing intently, I felt my consciousness leave my body as the world took on an bluish, spectral hue. I floated out into the air, moving down the stairs and out into the main bar, where three women, all dressed in dirty clothing, sat at a central bar as an older woman served them drinks. Candles were placed on the bar to provide light, but not bright enough to give away there presence to anyone outside the bar. Scanning the room, I saw that above them was a chandelier, one sturdy enough that it could probably support a person's weight. I floated up to it, then summoned a visage of myself upon it. The disembodied vision then ended, and I felt myself re-enter my body, and I felt drained by the ordeal. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I moved on, ready to deal with what awaited me. 

I moved down the stairs slowly and quietly, not wanting to prematurely give my presence away. Once at the bottom, I could feel my connection to the apparition I left during my exploration, and displaced myself to it, reappearing upon the chandelier in a crouching position. Below me, I could see the four Eyeless banter and drink, believing themselves to be untouchable. This made me grin. Time to let them know just how touchable they were.

I tossed the bottle of ether down from the chandelier, watching as it shattered on the bar. All four women gasped in surprise, startled by the breaking bottle, but not realizing what it meant for them. As they drew their swords and pistols, the vapour from the ether started to take effect, and all of them started to look woozy. One by one, they succumbed to the sedative fumes, collapsing where they stood. The bartender was the last to fall, slumping over the bar before sliding to the floor in a crumpled heap. I waited for the vapour to dissipate, then quietly dropped down from the chandelier. It was almost too easy.

I looked about the bar and soon found the door leading down the basement, where Mindy had indicated that Tarabai was being held. I peered through the keyhole, and saw stairs heading down, illuminated by dim light from a lantern hanging from a hook down at the bottom. I opened the door and quietly walked down the stairs, keeping myself pressed up against the wall as I crept. As I got to the bottom, I heard the whir of mechanical gears, followed the a stomping footfalls of what had to be the clockwork soldier. 

The mechanical monstrosity came into view, filling me with dread; it was almost twice my size in height, with four arms ending in razor-sharp swords and long legs ending in clawed feet. The clockwork's head resembled that of bird, with a long beak, and lens in the front of the back of the skull allowed it to see both in front and behind it. It walked back and forth across the room in a set patrol pattern, its head scanning back and forth. Getting past it would be a problem.

Behind it, I could see who I assumed to be Gretchen Finch. A lean woman in her early forties, with short auburn hair and dressed in a silver tunic with a large standing collar that fanned her neck. She had a sword and a pistol sheathed on either hip, and was pacing before another woman who was tightly strapped to an interrogation chair. 

Tarabai.

I recognized her instantly, despite her current vestments. Tara was slender and very pretty, with swarthy skin and long dark hair tied up in a dishevelled bun. She was still dressed as sister of the Oracular Order, clad in a bright white tunic and trousers, with a black waistcoat and high collar, cuffs and knee high boots. A red scarf with the symbol of the order embossed upon it covered her eyes, completing the uniform of an order that considered its members to be divine seers. Her arms and legs were strapped to the interrogation chair by thick leather belts, with another bound about her waist to keep her still. Tara seemed afraid, but was putting on a brave face, no doubt hoping to bluff her way out of her predicament. Gretchen was not buying it, though, and the tone of her voice was getting impatient.

“I ask you one last time,” the Eyeless leader said, scowling at Tarabai. “Who sent you, and are the Order planning an attack on us?”

“I do not know what you mean!” Tara protested. “I was merely spreading the the joys of the Sven Scriptures to the devoted when your heretics abducted me. But be sure, having taken me hostage, you will evoke the wrath of the Order. Just you wait and see!”

“Silence!” Gretchen snarled, slapping Tarabai across the check. “You will only talk if you are ready to answer. Maybe a little torture will loosen your pious lips.”

“There is no need...” Tarabai began to say, but Gretchen pulled down Tara's blindfold and used it to gag her. Tara mewed helplessly behind the cloth, the fear truly welling up in her eyes. Gretchen walked over to a workbench that was covered in sharp implements, no doubt used to inflict all sorts of tortures on her victims. I knew I had to act now to save Tarabai, but to do that I had to get passed the patrolling clockwork.

Then I had an idea. A very bad idea.

Focusing, I drew upon my supernatural powers and summoned a visage of myself directly in the clockwork's path. I waited for the exact moment for it to step onto the exact same space as the apparition, then I displaced myself. For an extremely painful instant, the clockwork and I existed in the same space, but only for an instant. The two of us could not occupy the same space at once, and one of use was going to come off worse than the other. The clockwork exploded as the Void protected me, though the effect was disorientating enough to cause me to fall to my knees in a daze. 

“What in the Void?” gasped Gretchen, startled by the sudden destruction of her clockwork soldier and my sudden appearance. Her surprise was short lived though, and she quickly charged at me, slashing her sword at me. “I will take your arm and eye as a trophy!”

Despite my dazed state, I managed to draw my own sword and parry her blows. She was not much of a swordswoman, and if I was fully together I would have beaten her easily. But after my little displacement trick, I was on the backfoot, and it was taking all my skill to keep her from cleaving me in two. Knowing I could not keep this up, I rolled under her next attack, removing a hook mine from by belt as I moved. After deflecting her next strike, I tossed the mine straight up, causing it to latch onto the ceiling. Gretchen did not notice this.

Well, did not notice until she found herself flying up towards the roof, hooked by mine's wire and soon she was stunned into unconsciousness as electricity pulsed down the mine's wire. 

“Hang about,” I quipped to Gretchen's limp form, then turned around and pulled the gag from Tarabai's mouth. 

“Billie!” Tara gasped, then cringed. “I mean, Meagan. By the Outsider, what happened to your arm and eye?”

“Billie's fine, and it's a long story,” I sighed, loosening the straps that held her to the interrogation chair. “Let's just get out of here before more Eyeless arrive.”

“I agree, but what about her?” Tara pointed up at Gretchen. 

“Turnabout is fair play,” I said, smirking. We pulled Gretchen down, then laid her out in the interrogation chair. Tarabai barely suppressed a giggle as we strapped her in, pulling the straps extra tight so she would not be able to wiggle free. Tara then balled up her red blindfold and stuffed it deep into Gretchen's mouth, and I secured it in place with a final rag strip. 

“She looks better in that chair than I did,” Tara chuckled, admiring our work.

“Debatable,” I said, but could not hide my own smile. “Time to go, Tara.”

After briefly heading upstairs to untie Mindy Blanchard, the three of us made a way down the channel and took my skiff back to the Dreadful Wale. Though she was loathed to do a good deed, I arranged with Mindy to use her gang contacts to smuggle Tarabai out of Serkonos to somewhere she could make a new life. Tarabai was not happy about this either, but she knew she had probably pushed her luck as far as it would go in these parts. Starting over in a new place was the best option.

The next morning I found myself standing on the dockyards with Tarabai as we waited for Mindy to arrive with the smuggler who'd be escorting Tara away. We had not talked much since the rescue, but as we saw the ship approach, Tarabai pulled me close and quickly kissed me upon the lips.

“Thank you,” Tara said, stroking my check. “I know I've been a bad friend, but I do appreciate the rescue. I don't know what you have currently got yourself wrapped in, but please look after yourself, Meagan Foster. Or Billie Lurk. Or whatever you go by these days.”

“Billie is fine,” I said, pushing her away and attempting to hide my grin. Even now, Tarabai knew how to push my buttons. “Look after yourself, Tara. I don't want to have to do this again.”

“I promise,” Tara replied with a wry grin. “You can trust me.”

“As if,” I said, and laughed.

Mindy arrived a short time later in a small skiff, and soon I was watching her and Tarabai motor off towards the horizon. Despite it all, I was sorry to see her go, and wondered if I would ever run into Tara again. Hopefully in better circumstances. Though if it involved her being tied up and in need of rescue again, I don't think I'd complain. 

After all, my name is Billie Lurk, and I am a good friend to have.


End file.
